


Justify the Means

by pip_girl_111



Series: Courteous [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Incognito Lovers, Loss of Virginity, POV Alternating, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8749759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pip_girl_111/pseuds/pip_girl_111
Summary: Arthur Maxson is bored and tired of the stress that comes with being Elder of the Brotherhood, so he decides to sneak away in the hopes of relieving some of that stress. Only he doesn't recognise the mysterious stranger who offers to help him out, and she doesn't recognise him, which leaves Elder Maxson and Knight Morgan (female sole survivor) in an awkward situation neither of them saw coming.





	1. Arthur - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to have a go at the incognito lovers prompt that was floating round a while ago, so this is my take.

The Brotherhood hadn't been in the Commonwealth long before Arthur snook off for the first time. He'd accepted the first set of recruits, been reunited with Paladin Danse and his initiate, promoted a few soldiers and now, well now he was tired. 

And bored. 

Bored of being Elder of the Brotherhood, stress and anger bubbling just beneath the surface, masked by a crumbling façade of professionalism. Bored of everyone keeping him at an arm's length, too apprehensive to approach him. He was glad Danse was back - the only person aboard the Prydwen to speak to him like a person - but he'd been too busy with Grace Morgan, his latest prodigy, to spend much time with Arthur. 

Speaking of Knight Morgan, she was proving to be a distraction to more than just Danse. She wore the uniform, talked the talk, but she was not Brotherhood material. She disappeared frequently, riled up the soldiers with boisterous drinking games and gambling, and was far too secretive for Arthur's liking. 

He rubbed his eyes, cursing himself for promoting her to Knight. He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd done it; panicked at having a pretty woman stood in front of him and Danse spewing tale-upon-tale about how amazing she was in combat probably. 

He desperately needed to relieve some tension. Somehow. He'd figure out the details once he got down to the Commonwealth. 

He stared at himself in the mirror in his quarters, trying to concoct a disguise of sorts. He'd decided to head to a bar in Goodneighbor, planned where the vertibird could drop him, the safest route to travel, and although he knew there were no planned patrols in the area, he wasn't so naïve as to think Brotherhood soldiers wouldn't frequent a bar, and them recognizing him, well that was the worst possible way he could imagine this 'excursion' going. He settled on some scratty wasteland clothes and decided that a clean shaven face and a change to his signature hair style would be enough to mask who he was. 

He arrived in Goodneighbor later that evening, having simply told Kells he'd be back soon and to keep everything running. So long as he was back the next day, no-one would suspect anything. Convincing the young lancer who dropped him off that she needn't inform Kells of his exact location was easy as well, the poor girl seeming so terrified just to be flying the Elder that she agreed without question. 

He took advantage of a Pulowski Preservation shelter just outside of Goodneighbor to change, stuffing his easily identifiable coat into his pack, and messing up his hair so it fell to one side. He emerged donned in a white t-shirt that was too tight and some ratty jeans, fairly impressed with his ingenuity, and confident that once his beard was gone he’d be unrecognisable. 

Checking into the Hotel Rexford posed no issue, the woman behind the counter barely looked at him as she threw the key to his room across the counter; too distracted with some ruckus in the back room to take much notice of him. He sprinted up the stairs two at a time, desperate to shave away the last recognizable piece of his identity. Well, second to last. There was nothing he could do about the vicious scar that ran down his cheek, but as he ran his hands over the now soft skin where his beard had sat, he realised that the rest of his facial scars were now more prominent. Hopefully that would be enough to draw attention from it. 

Despite his transformation however, he descended the stairs to the Third Rail a few minutes later still filled with apprehension, the musty odour of wastelanders clinging to his nostrils, the incessant chattering of drunks getting louder with every step, finally reaching crescendo as the room opened and he found himself in the main bar. Arthur scanned the room quickly, searching the collage of faces for any he recognised. Luckily there were none, and everyone seemed oblivious to his entrance. He relaxed at the realisation.

Whoever had worked on the old subway station had done a skilful job in converting it into a bar and Arthur had to admit that he was a little impressed. A small stage sat in the far corner and it was currently occupied by an attractive woman singing dreamily into a microphone. Her sequined dress caught Arthur's eye, a stark contrast to the drab clothing worn by the other occupants of the bar, and he spent a few seconds admiring how the sway of her hips caught the spotlight just right, sending beads of glittering light dancing across the room. 

"You should go talk to her when she's done with this song." The voice came from behind him and Arthur swung round, ready to defend his gawping until he realised the voice hadn't been talking to him. "Ask her what actually went on." 

Two women had descended the stairs; one, a redhead clad in full armour with a rifle slung over her shoulder, the other – the one who was speaking and the one who caught Arthur's attention – was a brunette, her hair pulled back at the sides and twisted into plaits, the rest lay in a mess of waves that cascaded down her shoulders. She wore no protection and Arthur could see a sliver of skin peeking from beneath the hem of her cropped top, disappearing beneath the band of her high-waist trousers, so tight it looked like she'd been poured into them. Around her waist sat a collection of belts; bullet and otherwise, which only served to accentuate the sway of her hips as she walked. 

"Why the hell can't you do it?" the redhead asked. 

"You know full well why!" The brunette exclaimed, and as she looked through the bar toward the singer, she caught Arthur's eye, and he noticed a small smile play on her lips. "She's... she's still pissed at me from the other week." 

He watched as they walked past, the brunette seeming to add a little more wiggle to her walk once they passed him, his eyes following them as they cleared a seat with a simple glare and sat, laughing and joking. He managed to pull his gaze away from her; from her shapely legs, hugged so perfectly by her trousers, her mischievous grin that showcased her immaculate teeth, her hair that he wanted to grab in his fists and... No. She was clearly a raider of sorts, and despite this being an opportunity for him to fully relax, doing that with someone who spent their life operating so far from the Brotherhood ideals was too much. 

He turned his attention back to the singer, she was just as attractive, if not more so and he eventually decided to settle at the bar, perched at the end where he had a clear view of the stage. He lost himself in the song that was being sung, the smooth melody seeming to drown out the incessant thoughts that came with being the Elder and he finally allowed himself to relax. As the woman brought the song artfully to its close and left the stage, the babble of the room engulfed him again and he realised the brunette was stood next to him trying to haggle a drink. 

“so, a screwdriver walks into a bar. The bartender says, ‘hey, we've got a drink named after you!’ The Screwdriver turns to him a goes ‘you've got a drink named Pete?’” She paused waiting for the bot to react, that smug smile plastered across her face. She’d untied her have a some point and it now hung loose down her back.

“No,” was his only response. 

“Aw come on Charlie, that's my best joke!” 

“If that's the best you got, then I seriously recommend you keep at your day job. Whatever the hell that is now-a-days. Caps.” 

“Fiiiiine,” she replied, “just put it on my tab.” She grabbed the two drinks from the bar and turned. 

“Ah! No. Your tabs frozen on account of you never paying it. Caps. Now.” 

“Jesus! Charlie, put it on J-“ 

“And it ain't going on the mayors tab neither!” 

She glanced at the woman she'd left on couch with a shrug of her shoulders and placed the drinks back on the bar. 

Arthur leant over before he could stop himself, “I’ll get these," he said forcefully, his tone begging no argument. 

She stared at Arthur, and he stared back, just as shocked as she was at the words that had left his mouth, but her confused expression soon relaxed into one of appreciation, with a hint of something Arthur couldn't quite place, but it made his pulse quicken and fuelled his urge to reach out and touch her. 

"Thanks," she said eventually. 

Her eyes were bright, deep brown and friendly, and Arthur found himself transfixed. Her demeanour didn’t seem to fit that of the raiders he'd encountered before - although he'd never really given them chance – but she definitely wouldn't look out of place running with the gangs that plagued the Commonwealth. 

“Thanks." 

Arthur cleared his throat and tried to reply a little softer. "No problem, just trying to keep the peace.”

"Can I sit here?" she asked, gesturing the stool between them. 

"Be my guest." 

She hopped gracefully onto the stool and held the other woman's drink out to her without breaking eye contact. The other woman trudged over begrudgingly and snatched the drink from her hand, mumbling a “thanks” before returning to the couch.

"I'm not a raider by the way. I just work around a certain group of people and I need to fit in or they'd have my head on a spike." 

That explained it. 

"So, what's your name?" she asked flicking her hair to one side and slowly crossing one leg over the other, the deliberate action serving to draw Arthur's attention to her thighs, his mind wandering to a picture of him peeling the fabric away from them, running his hands slowly up them... and then? He didn't really know what happened then, but he could imagine. 

"You okay?" she whispered, leaning closer to him, her warm breath dancing lightly across his face. She'd asked him a question... two actually. 

_His name..._

"Yes I'm fine, and my name's Roger-" he cringed a little at the panicked choice, "- and yours?" She hesitated for a moment, seeming just as conflicted as he'd been about giving her name, he didn't want to scare her away by putting any pressure on her to share, he backtracked. "Or maybe I should have just asked what I can call you?" 

"Umm, call me Gem." Another alias, which suited Arthur just fine. 

"Nice to meet you _Gem._ " 

"Pleasure's all mine, _Roger_." 

He held out his hand for them to shake, an agreement to call each other those names, and those names only, the topic dropped forever. Her hands were cool, pleasant against the heat of his own and she lingered a little, rubbing over the knuckle of his thumb with her own. The intimate gesture was nice - soothing – and Arthur felt himself relax around her a little more. 

"How old are you then?" she asked once she'd dropped his hand. She screwed her mouth up as she examined him before adding, "younger than 25, buuuuuut older than 18?" 

"That's a pretty broad range, but yes." 

"Older than 20?" 

"I suppose, yes..." 

"You're 20? Shit. No offence but I was being generous with the 'under 25' part. You had a hard life or something?" 

This was bordering on the exact territory he'd come here to get away from. 

"You ask a lot of questions." His tone was harsher than he'd planned and he saw a flash of panic strike across her feature. 

"I'm sorry, I'm a naturally curious person. You ask me something," she offered and he relaxed back into his seat. 

He could do this, plenty of men went to bars, slept with women they never saw again, women that knew nothing about them. Generic conversation was all part of that... She twirled her foot around, allowing the tip to stroke up his calf, the intimate contact distracting him completely from his train of thought. 

_What did he want to know about her?_

"You say you're not a raider, but you have to act like one for the people you work around-" 

"That's not a question." She cut him off sharply, as he had with her. Obviously he was verging into the same unwanted territory that she had.

"I'm not finished. What’s so important that you're willing to do that?" 

She smiled back at him and when she answered her voice was low, dangerous. "That's making a big assumption that I don't enjoy what I'm doing." 

He already knew she didn't, could tell when she first insisted she wasn't a raider, but when her foot ran higher up his leg, skirting by the sensitive stretch of skin by his thighs, he had to suppress a moan at the sensation and try desperately not to succumb to the distraction. He wanted an answer to his question. 

"You don't... And you haven't answered my question." 

"Good eye. I do it because my looking for someone, and those people are helping me do that." She quickly changed the subject, although he knew there was more to the story. "My turn. You've not been in this bar before, so what brings you to Goodneighbor?" 

"How do you know I've never been here before?" Now it was his turn to flirt. He leaned closer to her, like she'd done earlier, and began running his fingers gently along the inside of the arm she was using to cradle her drink. 

She smiled and shifted towards him, "is that your next question?" 

"No, I don't care that much..." Arthur could feel his confidence growing with each passing second, and despite the novelty of the situation, he was more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He drew patterns towards her hands, taking the time to dance across her wrist, before running his fingers along hers; his touches light and playful as explored the softness of her skin. 

"I'm here because I needed a break, somewhere to let off some steam." He said, with a gently pull of her hand, which meant she had to rest her legs between his to keep herself balanced on the stool. 

"Well, you're definitely in the right place… Your turn." Her voice was low, her tone an invitation to ask the one question they clearly both wanted an answer to, but he couldn't get over her admission that she was looking for someone. Perhaps the Brotherhood could help her find them.

"Who are you looking for?" he probed, foregoing the indulgence of his urges for more information; ever the Brotherhood soldier. 

"My baby, Shaun. He was taken by the Institute, from what I can gather..." 

The Institute. The Brotherhood really might be able to help her out. 

"I'm sorry. I really am. But the Brotherhood-" _shit_. He stopped himself in time. He couldn't offer their services without revealing who he was, and not only that, this was a woman he'd just met. No matter how comfortable he felt around her, he had no justification to divert Brotherhood resources into finding the child of someone he knew next to nothing about. "-that's the reason they're here right? To deal with the Institute, perhaps they could help you?" he concluded, hoping to have played off the slip well enough. 

"Perhaps. Anyway enough about that, it's my question." She moved herself closer to him, her legs now pressing against his own, and she moved her foot further up the back of his calf. 

He couldn't help the drop in his stomach, the burning desire to feel her tanned skin under his fingers, to explore every inch of her. He needed to play it off a little longer, keep up this bravado. 

"Ask away..." Despite his best efforts he heard his voice crack and he took a swig of his drink, attempting to drown his nerves. 

"Where are you stopping tonight?" 

"The Rexford." 

"Are you going to invite me back there?" 

He tried to focus on the conversation, to ignore her teasing finger that were swirling patterns down his arm that he had in his lap; keep his voice steady. "That's two questions," he replied. 

She bit her lip, clearly trying to stop herself from saying something, and he cringed at his response, hoping he hadn’t done irreparable damage to the conversation. He kept caressing her fingers, a signal that despite his blunder he still wanted her. 

"Well, I'm going to blow your mind and ask you another question now... do you want to have sex or not?" 

He didn't give himself chance to mess up again, just mumbled a "yes" and helped her off her stool, gesturing to the door and allowing her to walk in front of him, after all, this was her territory and he fully intended on letting her take the lead.


	2. Grace - Part 1

Despite her aching feet and general exhaustion that came from dealing with her Nuka-world raiders for two weeks, Fahrenheit had eventually convinced Grace to go to the Third Rail for a drink. 

Although, 'convinced' might be too strong a word. 

What had actually happened was a slight protest from Grace and an"ahh come onnnn" from Fahrenheit and she was up and out the door. 

"So, how's being 'Grace Morgan, Queen of the Raiders'?" Fahrenheit asked, as they walked, adding a dramatic flair to the title. 

"Like being a babysitter, but the babies won't behave and they all want you dead," Grace replied, throwing open the door to the Third Rail, nodding to Ham as they passed. "I kind of want to forget about that though. What I do want to know though is what happened with Hancock and Magnolia..." 

Fahrenheit raised her brows, "really?" 

"You should go talk to her when she's done with this song, ask her what actually went on." 

They reached the bottom of the stairs before Fahrenheit replied, "why the hell can't you do it?" 

"You know full well why!" Grace went to gesture towards Magnolia, hoping to initiate her point further, but caught the gaze of a man stood just inside the room. He was tall, much taller than Grace and broad, solid muscle straining against the thin fabric of his t-shirt. There was a vague familiarity in the way he stood, but she was soon distracted by his piercing blue eyes which trapped her words in her throat. She smiled at him a little, before turning back to Fahrenheit.

"She's..." She felt the warm blush creep up her cheeks and she stumbled a little over her next words, "she's still pissed at me from the other week." 

Fahrenheit had noticed her fumbling and smirked at her as they walked through the bar, nudging Grace’s side with her elbow dramatically as they walked past the man. 

“If you disappear at some point, am I safe to assume you're off fucking that guy?” she asked as they sat in their usual spot, the drifters who were occupying it before quickly retreating as they approached. 

“Do you really think so little of me?” Grace replied, clutching at her chest in mock offence, "I would never just _disappear_ on you. You know I like to brag too much to just slink off into the night with some handsome stranger." 

Fahrenheit punched her arm a little too hard, but Grace played it off; she was decked out in her raider gear, may as well play the part. As she flopped back into the the seat she allowed herself to relax for the first time in two weeks, the lumpy cushions to engulf her as she undid the plaits in her hair, shaking it loose with a groan at the release of tension on her scalp. 

"Practicing for later?" Fahrenheit teased and Grace swatted at her, "can you at least go and get us some drinks before you end up on your back" 

"You’re just jealous I haven't succumbed to your womanly charms yet. You got any caps?" Grace asked, already holding her hand out towards Farhrenheit, who just shook her head. "Shit, me neither, what the fuck! Why are we at a bar when we're both flat broke?" 

"When's that ever stopped you drinking before?"  
Fahrenheit replied with a shrug. "Figure something out." 

"’ _Figure something out?_ ’Great advice Fahr," Grace complained, pushing herself abruptly from the chair and heading towards the bar.

"Just tell him a joke or something!" 

Grace flashed her a quick finger over her shoulder and sauntered over to Charlie. What could possibly go wrong? 

"Hey Chuck," she greeted, plastering her sweetest smile across her face, "two please." 

"….. Caps please," Whitechapel Charlie drawled, placing two tumblers of god-knows-what on the counter. 

“Funny story, I don't actually have anything on me at the moment, _but,_ how about a joke to add to your collection?" 

He gave no answer one way or another so she decided to continue.

"So, a screwdriver walks into a bar. The bartender says, ‘hey, we’ve got a drink named after you!’ The Screwdriver turns to him a goes ‘you’ve got a drink named Pete?’” She added some flare and a cockney accent and paused, trying to read through the indecipherable expression of the mister handy. 

The awkward silence seemed to wrap around the entire room and she felt like all eyes were on her – Fahrenheit's definitely were, and if she went back empty handed, she'd never hear the end of it. 

“No." 

_Shit._ “Aw come on Charlie, that's my best joke!” 

“If that's the best you got, then I seriously recommend you keep at your day job. Whatever the hell that is now-a-days. Caps.” 

She debated putting him in place, telling him exactly what she was doing at the moment, but the bar was full and the majority of Goodneighbor wouldn't take too kindly to being face to face with the Overboss of Nuka-World. If she'd had her own way, even Fahrenheit wouldn't know. 

She settled on a exasperated “fiiiiine, just put it on my tab,” grabbed the two drinks from the bar and turned, hoping that was the end of their conversation. As she spun she caught sight of a large figure beside her – her mysterious stranger - obviously interested in the little altercation she was having with Charlie.

“Ah! No. Your tabs frozen on account of you never paying it. Caps. Now.” 

She cringed at his indictment; she had been hoping to be able to walk away from this with some degree of dignity, maybe even a cheeky joke. But Charlie seemed to have other plans, and she could feel Fahrenheit, and her stranger, watching her. 

“Jesus! Charlie, put it on J-“ 

“And it ain't going on the mayors tab neither!” 

She shrugged to Fahrenheit - a fight with Charlie never ended with anyone winning but the bot, she'd seen enough of them to know that now - and placed the drinks back on the bar. 

"I'll get these." 

The deep voice came from beside her and she flipped round, shocked, not only at the strangers outburst, but at the tone of his voice; forceful and a little angry, scary but also, fucking hot. She caught herself staring and smiled. 

"Thanks." 

The stranger cleared his throat and when he replied his voice was softer, but still gruff enough that Grace found herself transfixed with every word. "No problem, just trying to keep the peace." 

She gestured to the seat between the two of them, "can I sit here?" 

"Be my guest." 

She hopped up on the stool and held Fahrenheit's drink out to her without looking away from the stranger. She heard her trudge to the bar and snatch the glass from from her hand with a grumbled "thanks" before flouncing back to the couch. 

"Thanks," she said once she'd settled herself. "I'm not a raider by the way-" she felt the need to clarify as she watched the conflict flash across the man's eyes, "- I just work around a certain group of people and I need to fit in or they’d have my head on a spike." Vague, but enough to pacify whatever troubled thoughts he was having, and his posture relaxed just a touch as she finished speaking. 

"So, what's your name?" She flicked her hair over her shoulder, showing off her neck, and crossed her legs in a slow, exaggerated movement, attempting to draw his eyes to them. 

It worked like a charm, his gaze dropping below her waist and she gave it a few seconds; let his mind wonder to what she could do with those legs, the feel of them wrapped around him. 

"You okay?" she asked eventually, leaning close so her breathy whisper tickled his skin. 

"Yes I'm fine, and my name's Roger. And yours?" She caught his lie the second his mouth had twitched at the name. No matter, she wasn't overly keen on telling a random stranger her real name either. But what to say? Even Morgan was a bit of a give away now. "Or maybe I should have just asked what I can call you?" He looked a little panicked, like she might run away and it was then that she knew he must be younger than he looked. 

“Ummm, call me Gem." The bastardization of her initials that Hancock was so fond of calling her would do fine. No-one else knew her by that title anyway. 

"Nice to meet you _Gem._ ” 

"Pleasure's all mine, _Roger._ " They shook hands and she lingered a little, rubbing her thumb ever-so gently over his, before taking a swig of her drink. "How old are you then? Younger than 25, buuuuuut older than 18?" she guessed.

"That's a pretty broad range, but yes." 

"Older than 20?" 

"I suppose..." 

"You're 20?" The revelation genuinely shocked her - something that didn’t happen all that often anymore – the deep creases around his eyes and the weathered tone to his skin made him look older. "Shit. No offence but I was being generous with the 'under 25' part. You had a hard life or something?" 

"You ask a lot of questions." His tone cut the conversation and now it was her turn to panic that he was going to run away. 

"I'm sorry, I'm a naturally curious person. You ask me something." He relaxed into his seat again, mirroring her posture and she allowed the foot she was twirling to brush against his calf. 

"You say you're not a raider, but you have to act like one for the people you work around-" 

He was skirting close to dangerous territory, so she cut him off. "That's not a question." 

"I'm not finished," he answered with a smirk, "what’s so important that you're willing to do that?" 

It appeared she'd met her intuitive match. 

"That's making the big assumption that I don't enjoy what I'm doing." She ran her foot more deliberately up his leg and heard his breath hitch slightly before he answered. 

"You don't...And you haven't answered my question." 

"Good eye. I do it because i’m looking for my someone, and in some way, those people are helping me do that." That was enough for now. "My turn. You've not been in this bar before, so what brings you to Goodneighbor?" 

"How do you know I've never been here before?" He leaned closer to her now and ran his fingers along the inside of the arm she had rested on the bar. Now he was finding his feet. 

Grace smiled, "is that your next question?" 

"No, I don't care that much..." His fingers travelled to hers, playfully running between them, " I'm here because I needed a break, somewhere to let off some steam." He pulled her gently towards him, so she had to rest her feet on the bar of his stool to keep balanced, their legs now intertwined and she struggled to keep herself focussed on the conversation; her mind flitting to images of their legs wrapped together in an entirely different circumstance. 

"Well you're definitely in the right place," she purred, "your turn." 

He seemed to pause for a minute contemplating his next question. "Who are you looking for?" 

That wasn't the question she'd been expecting, but the sympathetic look on his face and the little squeeze of her hand made her want to tell him. Maybe it would do her good to talk about Shaun to someone, especially since MacCready was t around much for a chat anymore.

"My baby, Shaun. He was taken by the Institute, from what I can gather..." 

"I'm sorry. I really am. But the Brotherhood... that's the reason they're here right? To deal with the Institute, perhaps they could help you?" 

She knew exactly what the Brotherhood's agenda was and finding her child was not on the list. Well, maybe it would be, if they actually knew about Shaun. "Perhaps. Anyway enough about that, it's my question." 

She shifted further forward, her legs pressed against his, her foot caressing the back of his calf. 

"Ask away..." His voice was a little choked and he took a nervous swig of his drink. Perfect. 

"Where are you stopping tonight?" 

"The Rexford." 

"Are you going to invite me back there?" She asked, trailing a finger along his arm. 

"That's two questions," he replied his face despondent. 

She suppressed a groan, reminding herself of his clear inexperience. "Well, I'm going to blow your mind and ask you another question now... do you want to have sex or not?" 

He didn't hesitate before he answered, "yes,” guiding her off the stool by the hand he'd been caressing, using his other to motion towards the door in a kind of _'ladies first'_ gesture. Too gentlemanly to be picking up women in bars, especially this bar in particular, she thought - although she wasn't complaining as he held her hand the entire walk to the hotel.


	3. Arthur - Part 2

She entered the room before him, not even giving it a second glance – clearly she'd been in plenty of these rooms before – and Arthur tried to suppress his jealous curiosity at the circumstances that lead to her familiarity. She dropped the belts that had adorned her waist on the table, the loud clunk drawing Arthur's attention back to her. 

"It's nice to be back here, stupid as it sounds," she said, her back still to him. When she turned and saw his confused expression she continued, "I spent a lot of time here when I first got to the Commonwealth, kinda the first place I felt safe." 

"You aren't from here?" 

"In a sense..." 

Arthur had no reply, no less confused as he had been a second ago, and they fell into silence. He watched as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking the messy waves loose before leaning against the table, the angle perfectly showcasing the expanse of her body, the curve of her hips and breasts beautifully presented before him. 

What was he thinking? He didn't have a clue what he was meant to do now... well he had some ideas but he couldn't muster the confidence to put it into practice. 

"Are you okay?" she asked softly. "We don't have to do this, I know I can be a bit full on. I promise I won't be offended if you've changed your mind?" 

"No!" Despite his hammering heart, he did want this. "I'm just a little... apprehensive." 

She held out her hand and he took it, allowing her to pull him towards her, and she placed gentle kisses along his neck when he was within reach. 

"What's making you nervous? I'll see if I can help..." she whispered, punctuating her words with more fluttering kisses. Her breath tickled across his skin, and he felt his stomach clench and his cock twitch. 

He couldn't answer, didn't trust his words to leave his mouth coherently, and after a few seconds of silence she pulled away to look at him, brown eyes drawing him further in and destroying any hope he had of thinking straight. 

She flitted her gaze between his eyes and his mouth, an invitation for a kiss she was allowing him to control. He could bluff this, maybe the conversation regarding his lack of experience could be avoided; this he could do, and do well and he was confident everything else would follow... 

He placed one hand on the side of her face, his broad fingers splayed across her scalp and pressed his lips gently to hers. He lingered for a second, her lips soft and plump against his own, before taking the kiss deeper; his other hand joining the first on her face as he pulled her closer to him. She moaned a little as he ran his tongue along hers and she placed her hands tentatively on his waist, her thumbs rubbing across the taunt skin below his t-shirt. When she pulled away slightly, he took the opportunity to explore the sensitive skin of her neck, peppering soft kisses towards her collarbone. Her hands, in turn snaked under his shirt, her cool fingers forming goose-bumps in their wake as she ran them up towards his chest. 

He nibbled gently at base of her neck- he'd heard of that, seen the evidence on soldiers occasionally – and she moaned, grasping his hips and pulling them roughly towards her. 

He grunted himself as his cock, now fully hard, rubbed between them, but continued his attention on her neck, ignoring the ache in his pants as he pulled more delicious sounds from her throat, but as her hands began to fumble with the button of his trousers, he faltered, panic dousing all pleasurable feelings. 

There was no way he could feign any level of experience, this was a conversation he couldn't avoid. 

When he pulled away she was already smiling. "Are you okay? Wanna stop?" 

"No it's not that. I just... I've..." He struggled to admit his naivety to her, the words getting stuck in his throat. 

"It's okay," she urged. 

He swallowed thickly, his eyes on the floor, "I've never done this before... never done more than that." He gestured flippantly to her, hoping that was enough to indicate he'd never got further than kissing someone else. 

"You mean your expert flirting doesn't have women throwing themselves at you, begging for your dick?" she retorted sarcastically. "I'm sorry, I kind of figured. To be honest, I thought you’d be a complete newbie to the whole thing, but that kiss was amazing." 

"Thank you," he replied, his confidence somewhat repaired after his admission. 

"If you don't want to carry on, I'll leave. But, if you want to learn? I'd be more than happy to teach you..." 

His stomach fluttered, seeming to answer for him, "I'd like to learn." 

"Brilliant," she beamed, "you promise to tell me anytime you want to stop?" 

"I promise." 

"Even if we're in the middle of something, even if it seems like I'm really enjoying myself, even if it seems like a really awkward time to stop, you have to promise to tell me if there's _anything_ you're not comfortable with." 

"Okay, I promise." 

"Good. Now get over here and take my clothes off." 

He didn't need to be told twice, clearing the space between them in one large stride and pulled her top over her head. He lost his momentum as he caught sight of her breasts, encased in a bra that was far too delicate for the Commonwealth. They were perfect – not that Arthur had much to compare them to, his only experience with women's bodies the chance glances he'd stolen when he was still permitted to train and change around the other soldiers – hers were pert and tanned, the cool air causing a light sprinkling of goosepimples to spatter across them. 

She unbuttoned her trousers and removed them while he was distracted, before taking his hand and running it across her stomach towards her breasts, her hands directing his movements, massaging and pressing in a steady motion, and he finally understood the lustful behaviour of his soldiers, grabbing passionate kisses and touches whenever they could; if he had someone who would let him do this whenever, he'd never put them down. 

"Kiss me," she ordered and he followed, almost glad to be doing something he knew how. 

But she lead the kiss, her hands guiding his to explore her body, eventually guiding them under the cups of her bra. She pulled away from the kiss and he groaned at the loss of contact. Her hands were back on him quickly though and she pulled at the hem of his shirt. 

"Take this off," she instructed. 

He stripped it off, along with his trousers and discarded them haphazardly behind him, desperate to get back to touching her. 

She beat him too it, her hands all over his torso, exploring every peak and crevice of his muscles. "I can't believe someone's not jumped you before..." she said, her breathing a little laboured as her fingers explored the dip around his hips. 

He smiled, returning his hands to her body, mimicking how she'd directed him and pulled her in for another kiss, his hands lingering on her breasts as he massaged her nipples. 

"You're a quick learner," she mumbled against him. 

"I have been told that before... although the circumstances were entirely different." 

She chuckled, but pulled away, knocking his arms from her. 

"Next lesson, I know you're ready and raring to go- " she gestured to his cock, now causing his underwear to tent awkwardly as he stood, and he tried to ignore the aching need for it to be touched, "-but it's common courtesy, and generally a necessity, to make sure we're ready to go as well. So get close..." she beckoned him back towards her, pulling his body almost flush with hers, "then put your hand down my underwear." 

He slid his palm across the plane of her stomach, dipping slowly below the band of her underwear and she moved subtly against his curled fingers, allowing him to explore and experiment himself, eventually guiding him to brush against a spot that made her bite her lip and moan quietly. He ran his finger over it repeatedly, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and her chest heaved with the deep breaths she was drawing in. 

"Fuck," she breathed, "are you sure you aren't lying about being a virgin?" 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face as her mouth dropped open with a low moan and a shudder. 

"Remember... oh fuck... remember that spot..." She directed his wrist back as she spoke and he slipped a finger inside her. His cock jerked painfully now against his underwear, desperate for some attention of it's own. He ignored it, suppressed his urges like he had so much practice doing, and focussed entirely on her. 

Her hand quickly joined his as she directed his movement and pace, urging a second finger to join the first and as she shuddered, propping herself up using his chest, he wondered why he'd been so nervous about this, why he'd never attempted it before. 

Of course if he thought about it, it was obvious; who did have contact with the wasn't a Knight or other member of the Brotherhood? But at that moment, when she came with a moan and flopped forward against him, he could think of nothing else but her. 

He lifted her off the floor, cradling her in his arms and walked her to the bed; not part of the lesson but it felt fitting. He propped himself next to her, pulling her in for another kiss when she flipped them and straddled his hips. 

"How are you doing?" she asked, grinding herself against his cock. 

His could only answer with a grunt, covering his face with his arm as she leant over him, her mouth back on his neck and kissing trails down his body. 

As she reached his underwear she pulled them down, allowing his cock to spring free briefly before she grasped it and covered it with her mouth. 

He kept his face covered, too scared to look at her, and tried to relax into the feeling; her expert mouth taking him deep with each movement. As a pressure built deep within him, his hand found her hair, pressing her against him in a desperate attempt to keep her doing whatever it was she was doing to send those excited sparks throughout his body, the pressure building and building until… 

He must have made a noise a grunt of some kind because she took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat and he came hard, harder than he ever had from his own ministrations, the peak so much greater than he'd ever coaxed from himself. 

He fell back against the bed, his heart pounding but his body completely relaxed. She quickly joined him and ran a gentle finger along his torso that made his muscles quiver. 

“So?” she asked. 

Despite his release all he could think of was having her wrapped around him, of making her feel as good as he did. 

“I want to fuck you,” he replied, any trace of embarrassment vanished, a sudden confidence washing over him like his euphoria. 

Her hand trailed to his cock and she danced a finger over it, the slight touch causing him to flinch away from the stimulation. 

“How about we give you a minute and you can test out what you've learned.” She winked at him and he took that as a cue to ravish her with his hands, her lessons accumulating in a blur of pleasured moans and expletives, her body arching from the bed with the ever improving strokes of his fingers. 

Eventually she pulled him across her, his large frame shadowing hers, and she used her legs to direct him inside her. Arthur didn't hesitate, desperate now for a chance to fuck her and he moved slowly with her direction; lifting her up slightly, moving over her to adjust the angle, matching his speed to her increasing breaths, until she curved her body against his, her fingers digging sharp marks into his shoulders and he felt the same coiling pressure in his body, his thrusts becoming more frantic as she ran her hands roughly through his hair. He lost focus on everything else, his skin tingling through every nerve as her hands and deft fingers explored every secret spot to send him higher towards orgasm. 

As the feeling swelled and crossed where he knew there was no return she pushed him sharply away, taking his cock in her hands and directing him the final small step towards orgasm. 

She cleaned them both down and found some water from her pack before prompting him to get into bed. 

“How was that?” she asked, brushing his hair back to the side and for a brief second blind panic flashed through his chest that she might somehow recognise him as Elder of the Brotherhood. But she didn't, or if she did, she didn't mention it and that was fine by him. 

“I..” he wanted to gush about how appreciative he was, how amazing it had felt, but the words wouldn't come. 

“That good huh?” she asked, laughing and her hand found his hair again, running strands through her fingers as he slowly drifted to sleep. 

The rest of the night passed in the same routine; her instructing him, teaching him little tricks and explaining to him various pieces of etiquette, eventually coming together in an explosive fuck that pushed them both briefly to sleep. 

Eventually, as the first slivers of early morning light broke through the dingy curtains Arthur fell into a proper sleep, exhausted, with Gem wrapped in his arms and huddled against his chest.

But when he awoke a few hours later, he found an empty bed and no sign of her anywhere. He couldn't help the feeling of disappointment and rejection in his chest, despite telling himself that it was for the best and hauled himself out of bed in search of a remedy for his dry mouth and rumbling stomach, when he noticed a note propped up against a can of purified water. 

_'Roger'_  
_Sorry I had to leave before you woke up, I promise that's not how I normally do things. I actually would have liked the chance to speak to you again, but I have somewhere I really need to be this morning and you seemed to be so deeply asleep, I couldn't bring myself to wake you up._  
_I hope you managed to blow off all the steam you needed to. If not I'll be at Diamond City in 3 weeks time, you're more than welcome to come find me and we can work on some different ways to help you relax..._  
_Enjoy the rest of your time in Goodneighbor,_  
_G._

He read the note a few times before stashing it in the pocket of his coat. He did actually feel much better, the stress of the Institute seeming a distant memory now. He chugged the can of water, redressed and headed back to the airport. It was a long walk, but if he set off now he should be back on the Prydwen before anyone had really noticed his absence.


	4. Grace - Part 2

As soon as Grace spotted to number on the piece of wood attached to his room key, she walked ahead of him, barely giving him chance to open the door before she entered the familiar room; the musty smell and dingy furniture surprisingly comforting after spending so long away from the Rexford. She made straight for the table in the centre of the room, unclasping the belts from around her waist and dropping them carelessly onto the surface. 

"It's nice to be back here, stupid as it sounds," she said, still standing ahead of him. When he remained silent she turned to find him staring blankly at her. "I spent a lot of time here when I first got to the Commonwealth, kinda the first place I felt safe." 

"You aren't from here?" he asked, brows knitted in adorable confusion. 

She wanted to tell him, felt a need to open herself up to him until she remembered he was just a stranger she’d met in a bar, this was meant to be nothing more than a one night stand, just two attractive people bumping uglies.

"In a sense..." she eventually answered a little shakily. 

Vague, vague, vague. Answer his questions but keep everything guarded. She ran a hand nervously through her hair and leant back against the table, arms open and either side of her. A power pose- or whatever Nate used to harp on about - to try and grasp some of her mysterious confidence back.

He watched her without words, his gaze trailing down her body and a faint pink blush glowed across the tops of his cheeks… and just like that she was back in control. 

Grace allowed herself a small smile but it was returned with a flash of sheer panic.

Maybe this was too much for him, he was clearly not practiced in the art of one-night stands but perhaps it went further than that...

"Are you okay?" she asked softly. "We don't have to do this, I know I can be a bit full on. I promise I won't be offended if you've changed your mind?"

"No!" he barked sharply, "I'm just a little... apprehensive." His voice trailed off at the end, twinged with embarrassment. 

_Apprehension_ she could deal with. She held out her hand and he took it immediately, stepping towards her with little encouragement. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed a gentle trail down his neck.

"What's making you nervous? I'll see if I can help..." she whispered against his throat, her lips barely leaving his skin, and she felt him tense against her. 

He smelt faintly familiar; must and smoke tinged faintly by something metallic, but even after a few seconds of deliberation, she couldn't place it. So, back to business.

She pulled away from him, flicking her gaze obviously from his eyes to lips... _your call_.

He seemed to debate it for a moment before taking hold of her face with one hand and kissing her.

His other hand quickly joined the first and he guided her closer to him. This was clearly not what was causing him issue; the flow of the kiss quickly building heat as his fingers tangled themselves absently in her hair, the pressure on her scalp and his tongue flitting across her lip drawing a moan from her throat which caught them both by surprise. 

He quickly moved his attention to her neck, soft kisses turning harder as he neared her collarbone. His confidence was growing and the gap between them allowed her the chance to explore beneath his shirt, her fingers dancing across the taut skin of his stomach as she attempted to map his body. As his teeth scraped across her skin, a sharp heat rocketed to her stomach and she yanked his hips towards her, forgetting herself for a moment, the need for more contact flooding all rational thoughts. 

She worried for a second that he'd bolt, but he responded with a moan and roll of his hips against hers, his breath leaving him in harsh pants as he nuzzled against her neck. His apprehension seemingly disappeared, Grace ran her hands down the plane of his stomach towards his jeans, her fingers barely glancing the button before he froze and pulled away.

_Not so confident after all,_ she thought, smiling.

"Are you okay? Wanna stop?" she asked, preparing herself to leave.

"No it's not that. I just... I've..." His eyes were on the floor and she bit back a triumphant _I knew it._

"It's okay.”

"I've never done this before... never done more than that." He pointed at them both and, maybe it was the light, but he looked pale, his hand shaking slightly as he laid it back by his side.

She couldn't resist, "you mean your expert flirting doesn't have women throwing themselves at you, begging for your dick?" She’d hoped for at least a little smile, a break in the awkwardness, but he just looked at her silently, mouth still set in a harsh line. "I'm sorry, I kind of figured. To be honest, I thought you’d be a complete newbie to the whole thing, but that kiss was amazing." 

"Thank you,” he replied, not quite smiling but with enough flex to his mouth that she counted it a victory. 

Now for the proposition.

"If you don't want to carry on, I'll leave. But, if you want to learn? I'd be more than happy to teach you..." She'd always been a good teacher and with such a striking man in front of her she could hardly turn away from the opportunity.

"I'd like to learn..." 

"Brilliant," she beamed, "you promise to tell me anytime you want to stop?" 

"I promise." 

"Even if we're in the middle of something, even if it seems like I'm really enjoying myself, even if it seems like a really awkward time to stop, you have to promise to tell me if there's _anything_ you're not comfortable with." 

"Okay." 

"Good. Now get over here and take my clothes off." 

He followed her instructions beautifully, a little shaky but with enough enthusiasm to disguise it. 

She tried to take her time, go slow to give him chance to stop if he wanted, but as he stripped of his shirt and jeans she forgot herself; her hands running on their own agenda, desperate to explore the feel of his muscles, to follow the inviting trail of the hair that ran below his underwear...

"I can't believe someone's not jumped you before..." she said absently, revealing completely in the solid muscle beneath her fingers, his skin warm and soft.

He’d regained some confidence now, his hands returning to her, repeating the directions she’d given him earlier.

"You're a quick learner," she mumbled against him. 

"I have been told that before... although the circumstances were entirely different,” he replied, a slight smile playing on his lips. 

Now it was time to actually take this somewhere...

"Next lesson, I know you're ready and raring to go, but it's common courtesy, and generally a necessity, to make sure we're ready to go as well. So get close..." she instructed, pulling him towards her, "then put your hand down my underwear." 

She lost track of herself - barely aware of the words leaving her mouth - as his nimble fingers explored, quickly learning the motions needed to make her moan. Her instructions and directions turned clumsy as she chased the burning need for release, and as a second finger joined the first, mimicking her movements in the exact way to get her off, she allowed herself to relax, relinquished the final sliver of control, and let herself be engulfed by her orgasm. 

Grace flopped forward, propping her boneless body against him but before she could engage her mind to formulate some sarcastic response he scooped her off the floor and placed her delicately on the bed; a move so unexpected, so gentle and confident, that it knocked the witty retort from her head. She lay there, flabbergasted, as he propped himself next to her and kissed her. 

She needed to regain some composure, take control, before she fell too far into the kiss; before she got distracted by the feel of his plump lips against hers, the slight nibble at her bottom lip…

She flipped their positions, pinning him beneath her as she ground against his cock. 

"How are you doing?" she asked, grinning wide.

He grunted in response, covering his face with his arm in an attempt to hide the pink twinge to his cheeks. 

And just like that she was back in control.

She began kissing down his body, her mouth following the trail her fingers had tracked earlier, as she mapped the most sensitive areas - the harsh dip between his pecs, a small area below his ribs on the right side and just below his bellybutton - before she reached his underwear. 

She didn’t pause, just continued to the floor, pulling the trunks with her as she went. 

_This_ is what she’d been waiting for, the chance to show him exactly how great sex could be, and as his cock sprung free she wasted no time in taking it in her mouth.

Predictably he didn’t last long, coming before Grace could really show what she could do, but the gruff moan that rumbled in his throat and the fierce look on his face shot a sharp heat to her core and reminded her that there was plenty of time for her to show off. 

“So?” she asked, unable to help the smug smile that was plastered on her face. 

“I want to fuck you,” he replied; blunt, straight to the point and completely unexpected but his low gravelly tone only served to fuel the building heat in her cunt. 

She ran a finger along the length of his cock, admiring it in full, but even the slight touch caused him to flinch away.

She smiled at him, his mind clearly more enthusiastic than his body, but there was still plenty they could do to occupy the time. “How about we give you a minute and you can test out what you've learned,” she suggested with a wink.

As it turned out, he’d learnt a lot; his fingers finding the perfect spots, his teasing leaving her moaning before she guided him above her and prompted him, finally, to fuck her. 

It was messy and desperate, the finesse he’d perfected with his hands completely lost by his dick, but she came regardless. There was something about the low growls he made seemingly without noticing, the way he shifted her effortlessly to reach a better angle, the softness behind his eyes, that made up for the lack of skill.

She tried to keep compos mentis enough to be sure he was alright, a little ashamed that she’d been so focussed on her own pleasure that she’d forgotten the gravity of the situation for him.

Grace watched him carefully, waiting for the sign that he was close, and as he dropped his head and increased his pace, she pushed him away, swiftly taking over with her hands to guide him through the rest of his orgasm. 

She gathered some cloth and water from her pack and cleaned them both off before flopping next to him on the bed, finally able now to bask in the calming after-glow.

“How was that?” she asked, brushing his now sweaty hair away from his face.

A brief look of panic flashed across his face and she froze, wary that the gesture might be too intimate, but he regained himself quickly and began running his hand delicately up and down her arm. She ignored the fluttering in her stomach, pushing the implications to the back of her mind and reminded herself that this was a one-night stand and nothing more.

“I..” he finally answered, trailing off before the words could form.

“That good huh?” she replied, forcing a laugh through the nervous bubbling in her stomach, hoping that it came across confident and not like the giggling school-girl she currently felt like. 

He didn’t reply, just closed his eyes with a small smile as she continued to run strands of his hair through her fingers, completely content as he drifted peacefully to sleep.

Grace lay, propped up on her elbow, for a while just watching as his chest swelled steadily; the gentle rise and fall signalling he was asleep. His face relaxed as he slept, the frown that cut lines in his forehead eased and he began to actually look his age. She pondered the life he must have lead to cause such wear on his beautiful face. She was learning that no-one had an easy life in the Commonwealth, but the scars that littered his face and the deep crevices around his eyes, spoke of a life with more stress and danger than others. She drifted to sleep herself with a multitude of questions running through her mind.

Grace hadn’t been asleep long when she was woken by a gentle hand tucking her hair behind her ears. She took a moment to register where she was and as Roger got out of bed, stretching his arms above his head in a way that made the muscles in his back flex, she cursed herself for wasting what little time they had together with sleep and ponderings of questions she’d never get answers to. 

“Ready for lesson two?” she asked with a smirk, stretching out on her side as seductively as she could manage. 

He smiled back, a smile that actually reached his eyes, and practically lept on the bed. 

Grace managed to drift into a light sleep just before sunrise, but as the gentle rays of first light seeped through the ratty curtains she awoke with a start; she need to get back to the Prydwen, in reality she should already be there, tucked in her bunk with the rest of the dutiful soldiers. She scoffed inwardly at the thought, frantically pulling her clothes back on and snatching her pack from the floor, dutiful soldier she would never be, but she could at least make the effort for Danse.

She walked back to the sleeping figure in the bed, debating whether to wake him before she left. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she was in a rush and she didn’t trust herself to not crawl back into bed with him. She groaned, trying to force herself to make a decision as she fidgeted on the spot… no, she _could not_ be late back again. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil;

_'Roger'_  
_Sorry I had to leave before you woke up, I promise that's not how I normally do things. I actually would have liked the chance to speak to you again, but I have somewhere I really need to be this morning and you seemed to be so deeply asleep, I couldn't bring myself to wake you up._  
I hope you managed to blow off all the steam you needed to, but if not I'll be at Diamond City in 3 weeks time, you're more than welcome to come find me and we can work on some different ways to help you relax...   
_Enjoy the rest of your time in Goodneighbor,_  
_G._

She re-read the note a few times, considering whether or not to leave it, before propping it against a can of water on the table and hurrying out the door.


	5. Grace - Part 3

Danse woke Grace up at six am, about 30 minutes after she'd returned to the ship and only 5 minutes after she'd finally crept into bed. She grumbled as he threw her jumpsuit at her and begrudgingly changed, Danse quickly turning away to avoid getting an eye full. 

" I don't see why this couldn't have waited a couple of hours," she said once she was fully dressed, her now unruly hair pulled back in a ponytail. 

“You are a Brotherhood soldier now, Knight Morgan, and not only that, I, as your mentor am responsible for your training,” Danse replied. 

"I know that, but I've _literally_ just got into bed." 

"And I know that. Mess hall, now," he ordered pushing the small of her back to finally get her feet moving. 

She'd grumbled her way through the slosh she'd been served, moaning about how Danse was just punishing her for going out, but Danse kept quiet the whole time. She only stopped when his brows furrowed and his mouth turned into a hard line: his angry face. 

She wondered if Danse ever regretted signing her up to the Brotherhood, if her constant absences and the Elder's obvious dislike of her disappointed him. He never said anything, although he wouldn't, but she decided regardless to at least make a little effort to learn something today. 

"So, what’s the plan Paladin?" She tried to sound enthusiastic as she stood up from the table, like she couldn't hear the siren's call of her bed, beckoning her to sleep. 

"Today I thought we'd focus on weapon care and modification. That seems to be something you're lacking in.” He gestured in the direction of the workshop and she followed, suppressing her grumbling as best she could.

When they reached the workshop Danse took the lead, quickly organising the work station for both of them, and began to talk her through various procedures and techniques. Grace watched him silently, willing herself to focus on Danse's words. If she could keep herself interested, keep her hands busy, she had half a chance of staying awake. 

"You don’t need to strip yet," Danse commanded, his change of tone making her jump. 

"W-what?" 

"Strip the gun Knight. You don't need to do that, we're making modifications first." 

She looked at her hands, which were automatically beginning to dismantle her gun. 

"Oh right," she mumbled, fiddling with her weapon. 

Danse eyed her suspiciously but continued talking her through the steps she needed to begin building the mod; a scope of some kind. She followed them robotically, tinkering with the pieces as Danse instructed her, her hands taking over as her mind slipped back to the night before.

She could still be in that bed at the Rexford, cuddled against the solid chest of her stranger. Maybe that was giving herself too much credit, but she'd definitely be doing something more exciting than building mods for her pistol. She could teach him some more moves, maybe have herself bent over that rickety table, a strong arm keeping her in place. 

"You should be able to just slide it straight in -" Danse's instruction snapped her from her dirty daydream and she dropped the pipe work she was holding. 

"Excuse me?" 

"That piece you dropped, it should fit in that hole there. It might be a bit tight, depending on how you've worked it, so you might need to adjust it to find the right angle -" Completely oblivious to the smirk Grace was trying to hold back, Danse continued, "- but if it really won't fit you'll have to use some lubricant, otherwise you risk causing some real damage." 

"Yeah I can imagine, I mean that hole is pretty tight..." 

"Exactly Knight!" 

The day was looking up, poor Danse would just have to be a little more disappointed in his protégé. 

"So is there a particular way I need to be lubricating this thing?" 

"Not particularly, but I prefer to rub a little between my palms to warm it before coating the rod." 

She almost snapped, the guffaw escaping as a violent snort which she played off as a cough. 

"Is everything okay Knight?" Danse asked, concern knitted across his features. She almost felt bad until she remembered that she should still be in bed. 

"I'm fine. So this _rod_ needs to go in there?" 

"Yes, but be gentle with it. It should slide in nice and easy." She had to pause for a moment, taking deep breaths to silence the laughter bubbling in her throat. "Would you like me to demonstrate with my weapon Knight?" 

"Mmmhmmm," she managed to reply, the noise more a strangled moan than anything and she fought to keep her laughter at bay. 

"Make sure it's fully seated in there, all the way...Are you struggling Knight?" She shook her head violently, her mouth firmly clamped shut. 

"Perhaps we should set that aside for the moment. Now you can strip." 

She knew he meant the weapon and that's how he'd always referred to the action, but combined with the abundance of other innuendoes she couldn't help herself from giggling. 

"Have I ever shown you the correct way to thoroughly service a weapon?" Danse asked, still adorably oblivious to her amusement.

"Not you personally Paladin, but I'm pretty sure I know my around _'servicing a weapon'._ " 

"Fantastic, seeing as you're so confident, perhaps I'll ask you to see to mine," he chirped. 

"You know I'd gladly see to your weapon anytime Paladin..." she winked at him and he finally seemed to grasp the implication of her words, a hint of pink dusting over his cheeks. 

"Umm, okay. So..." He tripped over his words as Grace continued to stare up at him, brows raised slightly, "I apologise for that innuendo Knight." 

"Don't worry Paladin... and I don't know how to service a gun, could you please show me." There had to be a multitude of innuendos that could result from that. 

"Excellent, so start by stripping everything down and laying it out, I always start by cleaning out my barrel. Take the brush and push it all the way through, you don't need to be gentle, just pump it a few times to get the grime out -" Grace wasn't even working, just sitting back and relishing in the wave of double entendre's "- so long as you're careful to be thorough you can’t go wrong." 

"My thoughts exactly," she said with a grin, laughing to herself at her own joke. He dusted down the rest of the weapon as Grace worked on the first step, only turning to look at her when she set the piece down, allowing him to inspect her handy work. "Have I given my barrel a good enough seeing to Paladin?" 

"I'm impressed, that's exceptional work for a first time." 

"I have been told that before actually..." 

This was too much now, the lack of sleep was making her giddy and Danse's continued obliviousness was getting harder not to react to, she rubbed at her eyes, trying in earnest to keep a straight face. 

"Perhaps we should take a break? Reassemble your weapon Knight, I can drill you some more later." 

Whether it was tiredness or the adamant look on his face that broke her, she didn't know, but she started laughing so hard she had to prop herself up on the workbench, tears streaming down her face. 

"Knight?" 

"You're so cute! _Drill me later!_ Fuck!" She spluttered through howls. 

"I still don't understand..." 

"Drill me? It's a euphemism for sex, this whole conversation has been full of them!" 

"Yes and I apologised for the... the _weapon_ innuendo." He almost whispered the words, as if they'd draw to much attention to him. 

"No, before that! _Waaaaay_ before that." He still looked puzzled so she continued, "stripping, lubricating and the _'cleaning my barrel'_." She gestured with her hand to further illustrate the risqué undertone to the instruction, and the colour drained from Danse’s face so fast she thought he might pass out. 

"Danse, I'm sorry." 

"Have you just been playing with me this whole time?" 

She crumpled into another fit of laughter, tears building in her eyes at his continued obliviousness. He gathered the equipment quickly and stuffed it back into it's draws haphazardly, his cheeks now blazing red with embarrassment. 

"Danse, stop." He ignored her, snatching her gun from her. "Danse, oh I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I laughed at you but look-" she gestured to the weapon "- I made the thing! And it works!" 

He examined the gun carefully, holding the scope to his eye to test it. "It does seem to be up to standard..." 

"See? Hey, maybe that's what we need to do!"  
"What? Have me be the subject of all your jokes?" His angry face was back now. 

"No! But if we make everything sexual then maybe I'll pay attention more!" She held her hands out like it was obvious. 

"Go to bed Knight," he ordered, brows still furrowed. 

"Oh Danse, I'm sorry. Carry on, teach me more. I'll listen I promise." 

"Go. To. Bed." 

He was angrier than she'd ever seen him before, but she was still confident she could win him round. "I'm not going anywhere," she retorted, arms folded across her chest. 

"Fine. But our training is over for the day and so is this conversation." 

"Fine. I'll just lay here and wait until you're ready to talk to me again."  
\-------------------------------------------------- 

They stayed in silence for awhile, long enough that Grace was pretty sure she'd succumbed to sleep at one point. She glanced at the Paladin, still working on something or other; his cheeks were back to their normal colour and his movements were calmer. 

“Danse?” 

He ignored her and started hammering hard on a piece of metal that seemed unimportant to Grace.

“Danse?"

Still nothing. 

“Paladin Danse!” 

The hammering ceased and he turned to glare at her. “What is it Knight? Have you finally decided that you're going to listen to me, or is there something sparkly on the ceiling that has caught your attention?” 

“Was that... was that a joke?" 

"I was attempting to draw attention to your lack of focus and how easily distracted you are in a way that wouldn't cause too much offence. So yes, I suppose it was a joke." 

"Har har, brillant, so funny Paladin," she said, voice flat as she stood, leaning her back against the workbench. "I've got a joke for you, while we're on the subject." 

"We aren't - " 

“So a screwdriver walks into a bar. The bartender notices him and says, ‘hey, we've got a drink named after you!’ The Screwdriver turns to him and goes ‘you've got a drink named Pete?’" 

"Very good," Danse replied without cracking a smile. 

Grace took that as the best she was going to get and smiled, their earlier disagreement forgotten, "I know! Do you think it's funny enough to be worth a drink? Last night I tried it on the bar-tender in the Third Rail, you know, the Mister Handy, and he just shot me straight down. Refused to serve me unless I gave him the caps then and there." 

Danse stopped hammering and looked at her incredulously. "Of course he did. You need caps to exchange for goods, I understand that the currency might be a little strange for you, but you had the same concept before the war did you not?" 

"Well yeah but - " 

"Then I don't know what you expected," Danse interrupted, pushing his away the mods he'd been working on and turning to Grace. 

She hopped up onto the bench having successfully distracted Danse from his work. "Well everyone else seems to fall at my feet when I bat my eyelids, guess I'm too used to it now hey?" She joked, and she saw a shadow of a smile creep across Danse's lips. 

"That must be it. I won’t ask about where you were for two weeks because I know you won't tell me, but how was your night at the Third Rail? I assume you got some drinks eventually? Convinced a handsome stranger to foot the bill?" 

"Funny you should say that, because a handsome stranger did foot the bill, but it had nothing to do with me. And thank you for asking, I had a wonderful night… with the same handsome stranger actually." 

Danse held up his hand, begging her to stop. "Let's leave it there and call it a day. Get some sleep Knight." 

She laughed as she hopped from the workbench, suddenly feeling herself sink into exhaustion at the mention of sleep.


End file.
